Harry Potter and the Stone of Slytherin
by manyuu
Summary: What if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin? Would a terrible chain of events start to unfold or will something that should have happened for the best be placed? Future Draco/Harry. Please excuse any mistakes. I couldn't think of any other title name.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER :) -I do not own Harry Potter or anything of it. All belongs to its rightful owner, J.K Rowling.**

**Summary: What if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin? Would a terrible chain of events start to unfold or will something that should have happened for the best be placed? Future Draco/Harry.**

"Words said."

_'Thoughts.'_

"_Parseltongue or a snake speaking._"

* * *

><p>Harry Potter awoke from another dream about a flying motorcycle and quickly rushed from his cupboard and to the bathroom for a quick wash and to brush his teeth. He was careful not to awaken his relatives. God knows what they would do if they had found that he had woken them up this early in the morning. Going into the kitchen, he wondered what he should make for breakfast. Not like he was ever going to get any. It seemed like days since he was last fed. Deciding on toasts, eggs, bacon, coffee for Uncle Vernon and orange juice for Aunt Petunia and his Cousin Dudley, he quickly set out to gather what he would need. A delicious aroma had filled the house when Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had come down. Harry had made enough for a table of five. But with Dudley and Vernon's appetite, it was enough. Harry fell as his cousin pushed him to get to his meal.<p>

"Move it, freak." he sneered at him before shoving food into his mouth.

"Oh, that's my boy. Eating enough so he could grow up big and strong. Just like his dad." Uncle Vernon said, chuckling as he ruffled his sons hair. His Aunt glared down at him before telling him to get up. Harry slowly got up as he nursed his fractured wrist that his Uncle had given him for not finishing the chores on time. Even though they were his relatives, they looked nothing alike.

Vernon Dursley, director of a firm called Grunnings, was a big beefy man with hardly any neck and had a very large mustache. Petunia Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on neighbors. Dudley Dursley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. While Harry had a thin face with a pale complexion, knobbly knees, long, dark, messy black hair that reached just past his shoulders, bright emerald eyes, and long eyelashes. He wore round glasses that kept breaking because of his cousin, but was fix when Harry had somehow willed it to when he was eight.

The only thing Harry had actually liked about his appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning that he had for as long as he could remember. Harry remember asking Aunt Petunia about it. She had said in a car crash, where his parents had died. Somehow, Harry had doubted sad thing Harry hated about himself was that he was smaller and skinnier than he should have been for his age. He looked like a very small eight year old. It didn't help he had to wear Dudley's old clothes. Especially since Dudley was five times bigger than he was. [A/N. I'm making it five times bigger instead of four to emphasize the neglect put on him and to show how small he is.]

Dudley had finished breakfast and had ran to the living room to count his presents, as it was his birthday, leaving Harry to clean the table like he always did. His face fell when he saw the amount.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted the ones from Aunt Marge yet. See, it's right under this big one form Mummy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," Dudley said, going red in the face. Harry wondered why someone would need so many presents. _'Especially someone as spoiled as him, when I have yet to recieve any at all.'_ Harry thought to himself. Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger like Harry, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another _two_ presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? _Two_ more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. _'Don't hurt yourself.'_ Harry thought. Finally he said, "So I'll have thirty...thirty..."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon was talking to Dudley, but Harry was too lost in thought to hear._ 'I feel like something bad is going to happen today. Well, it happens every year on Dudley's birthday. I am going to and all her many cats, so what else could happen?'_ he was brought out of his musing when the phone rang.

Aunt Petunia answered and came back looking worried and angry. "Bad news, Vernon," she said. "she[1] broke her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's dirrection. Harry's eyes widened. He felt sorry for her, but he wished she didn't have broken her leg. He'd rather be with her than Dudley. Dudley didn't like it anymore than he did, his mouth fell open in horror.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he planned this. _'Well, It won't be another whole year before I have to look at Tibbles, Snowy, , and Tufty again. And I may even play Dudley's computer should they let me stay home.'_

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as thought he wasn't there - or rather, as though he was something very nasty that they couldn't understand them, like a slug. Harry stayed quiet and hoped he wouldn't go anywhere with Dudley, it always got him bad luck.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully. Aunt Petunia looked as if she swallowed a lemon.

"And come back to find our house in ruins?" she snarled.

Harry frowned, "But, Aunt Petunia..."

But she wasn't even paying attention to him anymore. "I suppose we could take him to the zoo," she said slowly, "...and leave him in the car..."

"The car's new, that _thing_ is not sitting in it alone..."

Dudley began crying. In fact, he wasn't really crying at all - it had been years since he'd really cried - but he knew that if he screwed up his face and waled, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums! Don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I...don't...want...him...t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, fake sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot a nasty grin to Harry through the gap in his mother's arms, making Harry frown._ 'Well, sorry for spoiling your fun. And to think, I thought all my fun was now spoiled too.'_ he thought sarcastically, remembering all those times his cousin had bullied him.

As if fate would let it, the doorbell rang - "Oh, good Lord! They're here!" said Aunt Pertunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face of a rat - Harry immeadiatley disliked him when he first saw him - and was usually the ones who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley had stopped pretending to cry at once. Wouldn't want any of his friends seeing him like that, now would he?

Half an hour later, Harry was sitting in the back of the car with Dudley and Piers, on the was to the zoo for his very first time. His Aunt and Uncle couldn't think of anything else to do with the boy, but before they had left, Uncle Vernon took Harry aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close next to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anythign at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas. You won't even see another living thing when I'm done with you."

Harry knew trying to convince his relatives was like talking to dry paint, so he didn't say anything at all but just nod his head. He tried not to think about all those other threats that Uncle Vernon and threatened with and all the many that he actually carried out on. It made him shiver to think about what would happen to him.

The problem was, strange things had always happened to Harry, but it was no use telling them that he didn't do them. He would just get a beating and be sent to the cupboard.

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of taking Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't come been there at all, had, taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent another sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes. Next morning, however, he found that his hair was exactly how it had been before Aunt Pertunia had sheared it off. He was given a harsh beating from Uncle Vernon and a week in his cupboard for this. He didn't try to explain that it wasn't his doing.

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (Brown with orange puff balls.) The harder she tried to pull it over his small head, the smaller it seemed to get, all until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't have fitted Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.

On another hand, he'd gotten in trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had chased him when he suddenly heard a pop and was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys received a very angry letter saying that he had been climbing the school buildings. Harry once again didn't bother to explain, knowing the beating he received would get worse if he did, as he was thrown into his cupboard with newly fractured limbs.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia about motorcycles.

"...roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them. Harry kept his mouth shut. If he said anything about his dream about the flying motorcycle, he would surely get yelled at. It was a very sunny day as families crowded around when they arrived. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance, but before they could leave quickly, the smiling lady in the van spotted Harry.

"And what would you like, little boy?" she said, completely oblivious to the glares Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were sending him. Harry knew his Uncle would hit him in the head afterwards for this and very much wanted to avoid more unwanted pain.

"No thank you, but thank you for your kind offer." he said, smiling gently at her as his wide green eyes stared up at her. They were the greenest eyes she ever laid her eyes on.

"Aww, how adorable. Are you sure, hun?" she cooed at him.

"Yes, I think I should go now. Wouldn't want my family waiting now. Bye!" Harry said as he left with his Aunt, Uncle, cousin, and Piers.

They later saw gorilla scratching its head, looking remarkably like Dudley in Harry's opinion. Moments later, Harry had become rather bored. He thought that they had no right to cage up these animals. They should be allowed freedom as humans did. _'Like my so-called relatives ever give me any freedom.'_ Even so, he made sure to stay a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were also getting bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in a zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Harry was allowed to finish the first.

Harry felt like something bad was going to happen again. After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in here, Harry kind of preferred it that way, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizrds and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobra and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's care and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment, it didn't look in the mood. It was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the brown glistening coils. "Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped on the glass again, but the snake still didn't budge. Harry frowned, hoping they would just leave it alone and stop bothering it.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away. Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently on the snake. He wouldn't be surprised if it died in boredom itself - no company other than stupid idiots drumming their fingers on the glass, trying to disturb it all day long for their own amusement. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroomm, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to do some chores she herself was too lazy to do.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.

_It winked._

Harry stared. Then he looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back and winked too. What else was he suppose to do? Besides, he thought snakes didn't have eyelids. The snake jerked its head towards Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly:

_"I get that all the time."_

"I know," Harry murmered through the glass, "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where did you come from, anyways?" Harry asked, might as well, get to know it.

The snake jabbed its tail at a sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

**Boa Constrictor, Brazil.**

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail again at the sign. Harry read on: **This specimen was bred in the zoo.** "Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening sound was made behind Harry, making them both jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling towards them as fast as it fat legs could take him. "Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs and stepping on his fractured wrist as Harry had fallen down hard. Harry was then angered as pain shot through him. Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass when they leapt back with howls of horror. Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the tanks had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid past Harry, a low, hissing voice said, "_Brazil, here I come...Thanksss, amigo._" The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. ("But the glass," he kept saying, "where did they glass go?") The zoo director himself apologized over and over again, as he made Aunt Petunia a strong sweet tea. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry saw, the snake only snapped playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all in the car, Dudley was telling them how it nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeaze him to death. Harry could only roll his eyes at their massive exageration. "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?" he said, with a smirk. All color drained from Harry's face.

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. Harry felt imense pain as his Uncle took out his belt and whipped his back. Harry bit on his lip until he drew blood, shouting would just make it worse. Afterwards, Uncle Vernon was breathing so hard, he managed to say,"Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collasped onto a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

Harry lay in his dark cupboard trying to nurse his wounds. He didn't even risk sneaking into the kitchen for some food. He curled into a ball in the corner and silently cried, trying not whimper or make any noise. He was wondering what it was like to have a mum and dad. Or a real family at that matter. He couldn't even remember his, but he sometimes remembered a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. He forbidden to ask questions about them and there were no photographs of them in the house. When he was younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away and love him, but it never happened; the Dursleys were his only family.

A tiny man in a violet hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After furiously asking Harry if he knew the strange man, she had rushed them out of the shop wihtout buying anything. A wild looking lady had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand the other day. The oddest thing about them all was that whenever Harry had tried to get a closer look at them, they'd seem to vanish. At school, he had no one. Everbody knew Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.

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><p><strong>[1] For some odd reason, they won't let me save 's name on. So I'm going with "She" at the moment.<strong>

**Oh, and some things may be wrong that I don't know about because it won't let me save. Sorry for the mistakes.**

**A/N: How is it good so far? If you actually look the time to read some paragraphs, you may notice that I have changed a lot from which how the first book was. I'm sorry if you didn't enjoy, I'm just going along with the book, but changing it to fit my story. Hopefully, it'll be a lot different from the original book. Seeing as how Harry is in Slytherin. Please review. Even if it is to flame me, I'd like some opinions on it. Trust me, it isn't easy typing and then a little Shimeji Snape starts blocking your screen and duplicates. He's blocking my words. ;_;**

**With love from,**  
><strong>YinKitsune.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER :) -I'm sure I don't own Harry Potter unless I am able to convince J.K. Rowling to sell me it. Which I doubt is going to happen.**

**Summary: What if Harry had been sorted into Slytherin? Would a terrible chain of events start to unfold or will something that should have happened for the best be placed? Future Draco/Harry.**

**A/N: In this story, Severus Snape will be like a father-figure to Harry. Well, once everything between them is settled. Also, please excuse my mistakes and if Harry, Dumbledore, or Snape seem a bit too OOC to you. I simply cannot write down their actions without making them seem so...uncharacteristic.**

"Words said."

_'Thoughts.'_

"_Parseltongue or a snake speaking._"

* * *

><p>Harry was a bit upset that school was over, but it didn't make much of a difference if he was bullied at school by Dudley's gang at at home too. Dudley's gang, which consisted of Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon we all big and stupid, but Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader.<em> 'It made sense too.'<em> Harry thought, running from Dudley's gang again.

They were all quite happy to join in on Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting. This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came, he would be going off secondary school. The great things about this was that Harry would be going to a different school then Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. It seems Piers would be going too. Harry, on the other hand, would be going to Stonewall High, the local public school. _'At least my school would have a more normal name that Smeltings.'_ Harry thought.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet on the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he had ran before Dudley could work out what he'd said. Even though Harry shouldn't need to run so fast, knowing Dudley's dim-witted mind, he wasn't going to take any chances.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry in another's[1] care. It wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out that she had broken her leg form tripping over one of her many cats, she didn't seem quite as fond as them as she was before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she had it for years.

That evening, Dudley had paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. The Smeltings boys uniform consisted of marontailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry, on the other hand, didn't trust himself to speak. Or even breathe for that matter, he thought two of his ribs might have already cracked from trying not to laugh. He knew he hadn't though, he would know what it felt like for a rib to break for him, thanks to his uncle.

The next morning, after Harry woke up to make breakfast, he came out and walked to the kitchen to find a horrible smell. It came from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to get a closer look. The tub seemed to be full of what looked like dirty rags in gray water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. He had forgotten that he wasn't allowed to ask questions and was lucky when Aunt Petunia lip just tighten instead of getting Uncle Vernon.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

Harry looked into the bowl again.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. (_'Like you're one to talk,'_ Harry thought.) "I'm dying some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it would be best not to argue. He'd probably look like he was wearing elephant skin. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, boy." said Uncle Vernon behind his paper.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry said, as he dodged Dudley's Smelting stick.

There were three mails that lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - _a letter for Harry_.

Harry picked it up and stared at it, no one had ever sent him anything. He had no friends, no other relatives - he didn't belong to the library, so he never got those rude notes asking for books back. Yet, here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

**Mr. H. Potter**

** The Cupboard under the Stairs**

** 4 Privet Drive**

** Little Whinging**

** Surrey**

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink (Harry's favorite color). Yet, there was no stamp. Turning the envelope, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large **H**.

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry quickly hid the letter for him under the doormat and went back to the kitchen and gave Uncle Vernon the other mails. He would go back to it later.

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><p>That night, he snuck out of his cupboard and went to get his letter. Right when he was about to open it, Uncle Vernon came downstairs and saw the letter in Harry's hands.<p>

"What in the devils name do you think you are doing, boy? What's that letter behind your back?" he said, making his way to tower over Harry. Given Harry's size and built, it was very easy for him to do so. He snatched the letter from Harry and glanced at it. His face went form red, to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds, it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped loudly, when Aunt Petunia had come down to check what the noise was all about. She took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment, she looked as if she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise. _'Drama queen.'_ Harry thought. They stared at each other before yelling at Harry to go back to his cupboard.

"But, my letter..." Harry trailed off with a whimper as his Aunt and Uncle shot him both threatening glares. He quickly went back to the comfort of his cupboard and wondered what was in the letter before falling into a deep sleep.

The next morning, he had gotten the same letter, although, thanks to Dudley's stupidity, neither held possession to it. Uncle Vernon teared the next one up, but at least Harry got to step on his face for it. Then Uncle Vernon had stayed home just so he could burn the letters. After, thirty or fourty letters seemed to be shooting from the fireplace. Uncle Vernon even made Harry move into Dudley's second bedroom because of it all, much to the displeasure of Dudley. Right when Uncle Vernon was on the verge of moving somewhere else and away from the letters in hope to 'shake them off', Harry started to question about the letters. He growled, annoyance and frustration finally took over. He punched Harry, giving him a big dark bruise on his bottom jaw.

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><p>"Severus, my dear boy, may I ask you a favor?" Albus Dumbledore asked, as he stuck his head out from Severus Snape's fireplace.<p>

"And what favor would this, Albus?" Severus asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, I would like you to check on young Harry and take him to buy his school supplies and give him his letter. He hasn't been responding to any of them." Dumbledore asked with a gentle smile sent directly to Severus.

"What? Absolutely not! He's probably being pampered right now. Why don't you ask Minerva to do the task? Surely, she is better suited for it."

"Minerva is busy enough as it is and I would not like to bother her, you seem to have free time on your hands though."

"But Albus! I have potions to brew."

"You brew them later, now off you go. Here's the letter."

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><p>That's where Severus found himself moments later to check on the boy. Walking up to path to the door, he took notice at how normal and bland the houses were. Every. Single. One. Even the lawns looked well-taken care of. Have any of these Muggles ever heard of being unique? He mentally shook his head. <em>'I don't know what these Muggles think of these days.'<em> he thought.

He sighed and mentally shook himself out of it. He proceeded to knock on the door, he was not suspecting a child with the physical appearance of an eight year old. He was sure that Potter was turning eleven. The boy turned large green eyes that he knew so well towards him._ 'Lily's eyes.'_ Severus thought, almost fondly, then he quickly banished the thought. He looked at the boy, seeing that he sported a large bruise on his face, he was confused.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" the boy in front of him asked in a quiet voice.

"I would like to speak with Harry Potter and hand him his letter." Severus spoke, raising an eyebrow. Maybe this wasn't Potter and some other little boy. But the messy black hair and emerald eyes said different.

"That would be me, sir. Uhm, may I ask who is speaking?" Potter said, confusion lacing through his words. Severus was about to answer when a large man shouted at the boy.

"Freak! What have I told you about talking to strangers?" the blob of a man shouted at the cowering boy.

"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon. I won't do it again. I swear. I'm so-" Harry whimpered, but was cut off as Uncle Vernon slapped him across the face.

To say Severus was angered was an understatement. He was beyond enraged, how dare this-this _Muggle_ lay a hand on a child! Taking out his wand, he pressed threatingly against the fat arses throat. "Don't even dare lay another hand on this child! I am taking this boy with me and there won't be another say in it."

"It's you and y-your lot! D-don't you dare p-point that t-thing at m-me! Take the b-boy! We never wanted h-him in the first p-place!" he stuttered as his face turned a deep shade of purple.

Severus took the Potter's hand and left the house immediately and said to the boy, "Hold onto me tightly. I will be taking you to another place seeing as how your Uncle is unfit to take care of you."

"Erm, okay, sir. But, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" the child said shyly, looking at the ground. They stopped and Potter wrapped his small, thin arms around Severus's waist, remembering what he had said.

Severus looked down at him, and stared into his eyes before saying, "I am Severus Snape. You shall adress me as Professor Snape." before they disappeared with a pop.

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><p><strong>[1] This site won't let me save her name onto this chapter or the one before. You probably know who it is that owns many cats and broke her leg. You must or the reason you are reading about Harry Potter is beyond me. I hope none of this is bad or anything. I was rushing through.<strong>

**A/N: Please excuse my many mistakes. I am lazy and decided not to read through it all just to check if there were any mistakes. Please Enjoy. Flames and constructive critisism are welcomed. My apologies if this chapter is short.**

**With love from,**

**YinKitsune**


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